


got good things, got you

by fairophelia



Series: Wicked Game [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairophelia/pseuds/fairophelia
Summary: Jonny hums and brushes Patrick’s hair away from his face, fingers softly tracing down the side and grazing across his lips. Patrick instantly relaxes, still lax and loose from his orgasm, Jonny’s hands effectively turning him to jelly. “Baby boy,” Jonny murmurs. “Can you do something for me?”Patrick nods. “Anything,” he breathes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this a little while ago and I'm finally getting around to posting it! 
> 
> A million thanks to [saudades](http://archiveofourown.org/users/saudades) for being the world's most helpful beta, cheerleader and connoisseur of filth. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Patrick wakes up in slow, warm pulses, eyelids fluttering against the rays of sunlight teasing their way through the gaps in Jonny’s curtains. He lets out a quiet noise of pain as he stretches his stiff limbs out, feeling the kinks in his body desperately try to unknot themselves. His body feels used, his muscles sore and tender, and with a gentle twist he feels a dull ache spread throughout his hips.

Biting back a smile, Patrick rolls over onto his stomach, hitching one leg up to spread his thighs further apart. With the sheets pooling past his hips, he feels the cool air of the room flicker against his exposed hole. He reaches back to grope between his cheeks, fingers tracing a path down to the tight clench of it, gingerly circling over the tender spot. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” he hisses out, cutting through the otherwise silent room.

His hole throbs from just the faintest touch. Patrick moans as he forces the tip of one of his fingers in deeper, feeling the tacky remains of lube just inside. Pushing through the faint sting, it finds its way all the way inside and – _there_. Patrick’s voice cracks as he feels it pooled inside, Jonny’s come still buried in his hole from the night before, wet and dirty. 

Patrick’s cock twitches against the sheets and swells to attention as his eyes close and his body goes loose.

Jonny’s probably somewhere else in the house, and looking up at the clock on the bedside table, Patrick sees it’s well past morning. He knows Jonny’s probably busy and he should leave him to do his work, but his chest feels tight and his hole is clenching. Surrounded by the smell of _Jonny_ in their bed, heat pools in his stomach, thrumming and wanting.

Sometimes Patrick likes it sweet and slow, but right now he’s feeling petulant and needy and wants Jonny’s attention. He wants to feel Jonny’s big body against his, wants his dark eyes and his mouth, the wide spread of his hands focusing on Patrick and giving him everything he wants.

So he crawls out of the bed, kicking the sheets away and not bothering to find underwear to hide his swelling cock. He leaves the quiet warmth of the bedroom, meandering down the hall of Jonny’s ridiculous house, absently giving his cock little strokes as he goes.

Just as he suspected, Jonny’s in his office. The door is ajar and Patrick pushes it open, the hinges moving silently. Jonny’s sitting at his desk, chair turned away from the door as he looks out the bay window and talks on the phone.

“No, no, that’s not going to work,” Jonny’s voice is serious and monotone; whoever’s on the other end clearly not telling him what he wants to hear.

Frankly, Patrick wouldn’t give a fuck if Jonny was talking to the president. He makes his way over to Jonny, footsteps almost silent on the plush carpet, and quickly rounds the desk to come face to face with him.

To Jonny’s credit, his voice hardly falters when he turns his head and takes in the image Patrick presents. The insecurities that plagued Patrick at the start of their relationship are almost non-existent now, and he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on Jonny. Standing in front of him like this, naked and flushed and exposed for Jonny to stare at, only serves to make a pang of _want_ course through him, free of the self-consciousness that used to be there.

Biting his bottom lip, Patrick looks at Jonny through his eyelashes, reaching up with one hand to brush the curls away from his face -- curls he knows Jonny’s obsessed with clenching his fist into as he’s stuffing Patrick full of his dick. Patrick flicks his tongue out and licks his bottom lip, making the skin wet and shiny, and watches Jonny’s pupils dilate. Patrick smirks and thinks, _gotcha._

He moves forward to where Jonny’s frozen in his chair, staring at Patrick and unconsciously spreading his legs. Patrick straddles Jonny’s lap, resting his naked body against Jonny’s fully clothed one. He cards his hands through the short strands of Jonny’s hair, sighing happily as he wiggles on the muscled thighs beneath him. 

Jonny’s staring at him and absently making sounds of acknowledgments to the person he’s talking to, his gaze firmly fixed on Patrick’s. Patrick smiles sweetly at him and moves his hands down to Jonny’s neck, deft fingers starting to undo the stupidly expensive button-down he insists on wearing.

“Daddy,” Patrick murmurs, leaning forward and nuzzling Jonny’s neck. He licks the smooth, warm skin, sucking a wet kiss into it, gratified when Jonny lets in a sharp breath.

“-let me call you back,” Jonny says, managing to sound only slightly strangled.

Jonny hauls Patrick’s smaller body closer to his, forcing him to press right up against the solid line of his torso. Patrick’s legs are spread wide on either side of Jonny, stretching across the strong expanse of his thighs. It feels _amazing_ and exacerbates the ache of Patrick’s hole, legs straining and sore from when Jonny pushed his knees against his chest and fucked into him hard and raw the night before. Jonny grunts as Patrick bears down, the unmistakable bulge of Jonny’s cock pressing against his ass through his slacks.

Patrick whimpers and reaches for his cock where it’s trapped between their stomachs, but Jonny beats him to it with his big hand and swallows Patrick’s satisfied moan with a wet kiss.

“That was an important call, Patrick,” Jonny chides when he pulls back.

Patrick smiles and looks at Jonny, all wide eyes and faux innocence, moving his hips in slow rolls to meet Jonny’s grasp. “More important than me?” he asks, trying his best to keep his gasps to himself as Jonny’s hand tightens around his dick.

Jonny snorts. “You know the answer to that, baby boy.”

Patrick does, and the knowledge of how much he means to Jonny and how much he could _demand_ from him makes his cock harden further, a small whimper escaping his lips as Jonny’s hand picks up speed.

“Get me off,” Patrick mewls, writhing on Jonny’s lap.

Jonny rolls his eyes, as if it’s some _chore,_ and Patrick leans in again to make their lips meet, groaning softly as Jonny’s tongue fucks into his mouth.

Jonny jerks him off so slow and tight and wonderful that Patrick nearly loses his mind with it. To make it worse, Jonny’s tongue licks between Patrick’s lips, biting on the soft flesh and sucking it into his mouth. Patrick feels like he’s floating with Jonny’s big body pressed right up against him, making him feel protected and loved and wanted.

He feels himself nearing the edge and touches his forehead to Jonny’s, panting into his mouth and keening as Jonny gets him off.

Jonny’s gaze pins him to the spot, and Patrick feels like he can barely breathe as Jonny practically coos, “Come for me, baby.”

It’s like his dick is conditioned to concede to Jonny’s demands; with a strangled gasp he pulses into Jonny’s hand, sticky streaks of come filling it up. He buries his face in the meat of Jonny’s shoulder, and Jonny strokes his back -- long soothing motions that make Patrick want to melt into him and never leave.

When he looks up, Jonny’s smiling at him -- self-satisfied and smug like he is every time he makes Patrick come. He reaches onto his desk and grabs a tissue, wiping Patrick’s load off his hand before pulling him in close again.

With a slow shift of his hips, Patrick’s reminded of the heavy bulge of Jonny’s cock. He sends a wicked little smirk Jonny’s way and bites his bottom lip, fitting his hand between their bodies and cupping Jonny’s cock. He wants to get down on his knees and have Jonny fuck his mouth, have him push into the lax, wanton spread of it, but Jonny confuses him by moving his hand away from the straining bulge.

“What-?” he pouts, and Jonny huffs out a laugh.

“I can wait,” Jonny says.

Patrick makes a questioning sound, because Jonny’s never been one to deny either of them to chance to get off. Frankly, he’s a little upset, because having Jonny’s cock in his mouth is one of his favourite things.

Jonny hums and brushes Patrick’s hair away from his face, fingers softly tracing down the side and grazing across his lips. Patrick instantly relaxes, still lax and loose from his orgasm, Jonny’s hands effectively turning him to jelly. “Baby boy,” Jonny murmurs. “Can you do something for me?”

Patrick nods. “Anything,” he breathes. 

Jonny smiles and kisses him on the forehead, bringing both of his hands up to frame Patrick’s face. “At dinner tonight, I want you to get under the table and suck my cock,” Jonny says. His voice is soft and almost casual, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity in his stare.

Patrick’s throat instantly goes dry and he looks at Jonny with startled eyes.

In all honesty, Patrick had completely forgotten that they were even going to dinner, but Jonny’s apparently planned for this if the calm, even tempo of his voice is anything to go by. Patrick knows where they’re going: some horrendously expensive Michelin star place that he would never be able to afford as a broke college student without Jonny. Normally, he gets off on that, because Jonny spending ludicrous amounts of money on him and showing him off is such a fucking turn on. But this -- they’re going to be there with _people,_ people Jonny knows and works with and he wants him to, wants Patrick to-

_Jesus Christ._

Patrick’s face flushes, his skin lighting up like a switch has been flipped, and the plush spread of his mouth drops open as he lets out, “You – what, Jonny?”

“You heard me,” Jonny says, voice still calm and measured.

“Why?” Patrick asks, hopelessly turned on, his dick somehow coming back to life after he just came, filling between them at the thought. But he’s still confused, because Jonny’s never asked him to do something like _that_ before.

Jonny smirks at him, licking his lips before explaining in a deep, quiet voice, “Because I want to sit in that restaurant and know that you’re on your knees for me, and only for me.” His hands stroke down the crack of Patrick’s ass, roughly grabbing a handful of his cheek. “Wouldn’t you like that, baby boy?” he asks, the fingertips of his other hand probing until they reach Patrick’s hole. 

Patrick’s squirming, and his hole clenches, twitching around Jonny’s fingers where they’re pulling at the sore rim. He feels so _embarrassed_ by what Jonny’s saying, but his dick leaps against his stomach when he imagines it, giving Jonny a slack jawed look of wonder as he shifts in his lap. 

“I want you choking on my dick surrounded by people, almost getting caught because you can’t control how much you love having me fuck your throat,” Jonny continues, staring right at him, fingers deftly pushing up inside Patrick and sending bright sparks of pleasure and pain up his spine. 

“Will you do that, baby?” Jonny asks. “Choke on my dick in a restaurant full of people, show everyone how much of a slut you are for it? Crawl back out and let everyone who sees your mouth know what you’ve just done? Let them know who _owns_ you?”

Patrick’s eyes nearly roll back into his head at Jonny’s words, his dick aching where Jonny’s reached down to fondle it and tease the oversensitive head. Overwhelmed, Patrick keens high in his throat and lurches forward, burying his face in the solid mass of Jonny’s chest. Jonny takes his time, seemingly patient and content to wait for Patrick to reply. He rolls Patrick’s balls in his palm and hums at the little mewls he lets out, fingers thrusting shallowly into Patrick’s hole.

Patrick sucks in a deep breath as he raises his head, eyelids fluttering. He looks up and Jonny’s staring at him with so much intensity and _love_ that Patrick wants to cry. 

“Can you do that for me, baby?” Jonny prompts again. “Can you do that for your Daddy?” He leans forward and sucks Patrick’s bottom lip into his mouth, teasing and licking over the plumpness of it.

That’s so completely _unfair,_ and Jonny knows exactly what he’s doing using that word. Patrick nods helplessly again, moaning into Jonny’s mouth, reduced to a complete, panting mess.

“Okay, Daddy,” he says, voice breathy.

Jonny’s smile makes his dick twitch.

*

When they walk into the restaurant that night, it becomes clear to Patrick that Jonny chose this place very specifically. Patrick turns to him and raises an eyebrow, nudging his head towards the lush floor length tablecloths. One corner of Jonny’s mouth tugs upward in a smirk, and Patrick laughs as Jonny guides him over to the maître d’.

“Reservation under Toews,” Jonny says, drawing Patrick to his side, fingers teasing across his hip.

The maître d’s eyebrow arches, his eyes quickly flitting between Patrick and Jonny before smoothing over into a mask of professionalism.

Patrick’s dressed up, completely fitted out in expensive shit Jonny’s paid for, looking entirely at home in their lavish surroundings. He looks good, and he knows Jonny’s pleased with the fit of his suit from the intent drag of his eyes up and down Patrick’s body. 

But Jonny – Jonny’s so amazingly _hot_ that Patrick can’t even deal with it half the time. He’s wearing one of his dark navy suits, tailored so well to the thick lines of his body that it may as well be painted on. His body is broad and so much stronger than Patrick’s, a testament to just how strict Jonny is with his diet and exercise. He’s everything Patrick never knew he wanted, and the heavy weight of his body when he pins Patrick down is all he can ever imagine himself needing.

Despite that, Jonny _is_ closer to forty than he is thirty. There are faint little creases starting to form near the corners of his eyes, and he’s so distinguished and refined-looking that Patrick can hardly believe he’s real.

Patrick, on the other hand, is still a little baby faced and almost half a foot shorter. His body is made up of sleek, lean muscle that contrasts sharply to Jonny’s bulk, and the curls Jonny balks at him cutting only highlight just how young he looks.

Patrick _knows_ what kind of picture they make, and if the wicked little smile Jonny shoots him is any indication, he does too.

They’ve barely sat down at their table before their waiter appears with a bottle of wine and pours Jonny a glass. 

“Who are we even having dinner with?” Patrick asks after the waiter leaves, swiping Jonny’s glass from his hand and taking a long sip. Jonny levels him with a disapproving look, and Patrick rolls his eyes. Jonny can fuck him within an inch of his life and say the filthiest shit to him, but god forbid Patrick drink underage.

Jonny places a tall glass of sparkling water in Patrick’s hand instead. “A client from the firm. I’m not particularly fond of him,” Jonny answers, making a face as he sips at his wine. He beckons a waiter over and asks to have a different and even more expensive bottle delivered. Patrick fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Why are we having dinner with him if you don’t like him?” Patrick asks.

Jonny gives him a slow once-over that makes his skin flush. “Because I plan on being distracted by something far more enjoyable, baby boy.”

Blood rushes to Patrick’s face and he drops his eyes to the tablecloth. He feels a thrill of satisfaction every time Jonny takes him out and introduces him to his colleagues and clients. At the start of this _thing,_ Patrick thought he’d be a well-kept secret. He expected to have to be discreet about how much he constantly thirsts after Jonny’s dick, and ensure that he was never a source of embarrassment.

But Jonny’s always putting his hands all over Patrick and kissing his neck where everyone can see. He’s never once tried to deny that Patrick is _his,_ and endures what Patrick is sure is a never-ending amount of shit from his more opinionated friends for their relationship. In spite of all that, Jonny’s totally and completely proud to have Patrick at his side, intent on flaunting and touching him and letting everyone know exactly what they are to each other.

It makes Patrick so happy he feels like he could burst. 

He looks at Jonny, and some of what he’s feeling must be showing on his face because Jonny gives him a tender smile, gaze holding him in place.

Patrick bites his lip around a grin and clears his throat. “So, how are we going to do this?”

“Well, you’re going to get under the table and choke on my dick,” Jonny says casually, slowly examining the menu because he’s a douchebag.

Patrick hates that he’s so into it.

“Obviously,” Patrick says wryly. “But what’s the game plan here? Am I waiting until after your asshole of a client gets here? Because it’s going to be hard for me to just conveniently disappear at some point.”

Jonny sighs and sets the menu back down, fixing Patrick with a long-suffering look. With a deliberate swipe of his arm, he knocks his fork off the table.

He stares at Patrick and raises an eyebrow.

“Oops,” he says, voice deadpan. “Pick that up for me, baby?” 

Patrick looks to the heavens for a moment, not quite believing this is his life. He’s going to do it because, well, _obviously,_ but he makes sure to look unimpressed first.

“You’re such a fucking cliché, oh my god,” he complains.

Patrick glances around the restaurant, but the coast is relatively clear. They’re hideously early to the restaurant; no crowd has formed yet, and most of the wait staff appear occupied with other things. So Patrick gives Jonny a filthy smirk and drops to his knees, lifting the heavy tablecloth as he crawls underneath.

It’s fucking dark. Obviously.

Patrick feels his eyes adjust in small increments, until he’s eventually able to make out Jonny’s legs spread invitingly in front of him. He crawls forward and squeezes Jonny’s ankle, feeling Jonny’s hand reach under the table and stroke his cheek. He settles between Jonny’s thighs and rests his head against one. He runs his palms up and down the straining muscle, tiny pinpricks of electricity racing up his arms at the contact.

He hears the waiter approach the table and ask about Patrick’s whereabouts.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid he had to leave,” Jonny explains. “It’ll be just my guest and I for dinner.”

“Very well, sir.”

The waiter leaves and Patrick closes his eyes, softly nuzzling his face into the warmth of Jonny’s body. He’s not unhappy about his position, and would gladly sit at Jonny’s feet and relish his touch for hours on end. He settles in, content to wait until Jonny wants him.

*

Patrick doesn’t want to admit that he falls asleep but – yeah, he might have drifted off. He’s a tired college student constantly losing sleep when Jonny fucks within an inch of his life, okay? He has an excuse.

His eyes blink open to the feeling of Jonny’s fingers gently sliding through his curls and to the sound of voices above. Jonny’s client has definitely arrived; when he turns his head, Patrick sees the man’s legs under the table across from him. He’s far away enough that he won’t feel Patrick, because Jonny is apparently a master planner at getting his dick sucked in public and had them seated at a ridiculously wide table.

After regaining his senses, Patrick decides he’s had enough waiting. His mouth waters at the thought of finally getting Jonny’s cock in his throat, and he wets his lips and lets out a pant. He pulls at the napkin covering Jonny’s lap, letting it pool where his knees are spread as he reaches his hands up to squeeze Jonny’s cock.

Jonny’s thighs tense, and his legs widen with a slow movement. Patrick smiles and leans in, nuzzling his face against the front of Jonny’s slacks, feeling the fabric shift and begin to tent as Jonny’s cock hardens beneath his mouth.

Distantly, Patrick hears the waiter approach. Unconcerned with letting Jonny enjoy his meal first, Patrick expertly unzips Jonny’s pants, his dick hardening and his hole clenching down on nothing as he sees that Jonny’s gone commando. His hand reaches out quickly to pull Jonny’s cock out of the confining material, saliva pooling in his mouth as the swollen head comes into his view. 

With a happy sigh, Patrick sucks Jonny’s cock into his mouth, feeling a warm wave of contentment settle through him as his tongue finds the familiar taste. Patrick gives a hard little suck and wraps his fingers around the base, satisfied when he hears Jonny’s remaining cutlery clatter against his plate.

It’s definitely not the best place to give a blow job, because Patrick’s hyper aware of every wet noise coming from his mouth. He misses the intensity of Jonny’s dark eyes watching him, misses his filthy mouth telling Patrick just how good he looks taking his cock.

And yet, he _loves_ it.

The heavy weight of Jonny’s cock feels like heaven in his mouth. He wants to melt into the sweaty scent of Jonny’s groin and never leave, just let Jonny fuck into his throat and use him for hours. His dick strains up against his pants, every push of Jonny’s cock sending thrills down to it, making his balls ache and tighten.

“What’s the timeline on that, Jonathan?” Jonny’s client asks.

Jonny’s voice is calm and monotonous as he answers, his hips not moving, practically stationary in his chair. But one of his hands gives him away, reaching under the table and ruthlessly clenching Patrick’s curls. Bright sparks of stinging pain slice up Patrick’s spine and he lets out a deep groan, suckling more intensely. 

He moans when he feels it pulse in his mouth, a sticky stream of pre-come dancing over his tongue. The rumble of Jonny’s voice goes on, but he leaves his hand in Patrick’s hair, smoothing it down and then gripping it again, bringing his fingers to tease around Patrick’s lips and feeling the stretch of his cock disappearing in and out.

Hand shaking, Patrick reaches down and fumbles his own pants open, closing over his cock with a satisfied moan that makes Jonny thrust slightly up into the heat of his mouth. Jonny’s thighs are so wide on either side of Patrick’s head, his hand so big and warm, and Patrick feels like he’s teetering over the edge of sanity, consumed by pleasing Jonny and having his mouth fucked.

As quietly as he can, Patrick pulls off Jonny’s cock and heaves in a deep breath, feeling thick strands of spit and pre-come stretching from the head to his mouth. He breaks them with a vicious lick, gulping in a few shallow breaths before leaning back in and letting his jaw drop open, pliant and loose. 

Easing the fat head of Jonny’s cock back into his mouth, he lets it slide deep. Grabbing Jonny’s hand, he guides it to the back of his head and encourages him to _push._ With a rough twist of his fingers in Patrick’s hair, Jonny finally gets the idea and forces his cock deeper into Patrick’s throat. 

His eyes water, and his jaw aches, but the stretch of Jonny in his throat is _amazing._ Patrick swallows, breathing heavily through his nose and feeling the walls of his throat close around the head of Jonny’s cock. Jonny’s hand remains forceful, holding him down and choking Patrick on his fat dick. 

Patrick loves it so much that he can’t breathe.

He can hear the muffled noises of the restaurant around them -- can hear people speaking and Jonny’s deep timber of a voice as he tries to keep up with conversation. The thought of getting caught -- of someone finding them and seeing Patrick on his knees, choking and panting and _loving_ having his Daddy’s cock fucked into his raw throat -- makes his eyes roll back into his head.

With a twist of his hand, he comes silently into his own palm, moans reverberating through his throat and around Jonny’s dick.

Jonny’s dick is pulsing and straining in his mouth, thick head caught in the squeeze of his throat, and with a gasp, Patrick pulls back. He licks his lips and stares at the proud curve of Jonny’s dick, so swollen and full and slick from his mouth. 

Jonny squirms impatiently in his seat, clearly wanting Patrick’s undivided attention back on his dick. Patrick rolls his eyes and grins, bringing his come-stained hand up to Jonny’s cock and wrapping it around the length of it. With tight strokes, he smears his come over the length of Jonny’s cock -- and with a sharp jolt, Jonny seems to realize what he’s done, dick leaking out a long, glorious pulse of pre-come.

Moaning in approval, Patrick takes the head back into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, a filthy sound wrenched from his throat as he tastes _Jonny_ and his own come in one perfect, wet suck.

Patrick’s lips feel sore and swollen, his throat aching and his chin covered in spit and come. He’s overwhelmed by how much he loves it, how easy he is for anything Jonny wants to do to him. How easily he lets Jonny fuck his throat and doesn’t give a fuck who knows how much of a slut he is for it, how much he gets off on the idea of someone seeing him mewling and prone, how desperately he pants for it on his knees with tears in his eyes and a cock stretching his mouth open. With long, deep swallows, Patrick sucks Jonny down again, licking and moaning around the length, paying so much attention to the part of Jonny that splits him open and makes him scream.

Time disappears until only the feeling of Jonny’s dick in his mouth registers in his mind. Patrick can’t really get a rhythm going like this, and Jonny’s forced to keep his body still -- maintaining a façade of composure and trying not to let on that his dick is being swallowed. So Patrick keeps sucking and jacking the length of it, letting the sticky head slip into his throat and twitch in the tight heat of it.

Jonny’s hand clenches tightly in his hair again, his cock pulsing as he shoves Patrick’s mouth wide around the base. Sensing that Jonny’s about to come, he pulls his head back just in time to let it spurt heavy and wet on his tongue, jerking the length of it in his sticky fist. Patrick moans at the taste of it, making sure to milk every drop that he can, desperate to have all of Jonny’s come marking him and filling his mouth up.

Patrick’s eyelashes are matted with tears, and his skin feels tight and hot. Careful not to spill any of Jonny’s load, he pulls off of his cock and urges Jonny’s long fingers into his mouth. Jonny’s fingers strokes softly over his tongue and Patrick feels them pause, Jonny’s thighs tensing as he feels the load of his come coating Patrick’s tongue.

Patrick is grateful when he finally swallows Jonny’s come, feeling it slide warmly down his throat. Jonny’s hand strokes down his jaw, his touches almost reverent in their thanks.

Patrick smiles to himself and leans back in to suck the head of Jonny’s cock into the inviting warmth of his mouth. Jonny’s cock is starting to soften, but Patrick doesn’t care. Instead, he rests his cheek against the side of Jonny’s inner thigh and keeps the head of Jonny’s dick inside his mouth, gently suckling and letting out soft moans. His tongue draws little circles before teasing at the slit, and Patrick feels a shiver go through Jonny’s body, legs shifting on either side of Patrick’s body and squeezing him in.

He feels like he’s floating, content to have Jonny’s softening cock just resting there, so warm and comforting in its weight, soothing the mess of his mouth.

He slowly comes back to himself, registering the gentle pats of Jonny’s hand on his hair, and the way his fingertips reach out to wipe at the tears staining Patrick’s cheeks.

His face is a mess, and Patrick picks up the napkin he’d pushed off Jonny’s lap, half moaning and wincing as he rubs it over the swollen flesh of his mouth.

As much as he’s loved sucking Jonny’s cock, Patrick’s eager to get out from under the table, his stomach rumbling and his knees sore from the prolonged position.

Jonny seems to read his mind, because the next thing he knows, Patrick hears a truly spectacular shattering of glass, and Jonny’s fingers quickly tap him on the shoulder. Patrick takes that as his signal to awkwardly crawl out from under the table. He stands up and straightens, planting himself next to Jonny, trying for all intents and purposes to look like he just walked into the restaurant late.

He looks for the source of the noise and sees an entire tray of ruined food splattered across the floor, broken glass and wine seeping into the carpet. Patrick doesn’t even know how Jonny managed to time that, and raises his eyebrows in his direction. Jonny smiles up at him, face still so refined and composed. With a snort, Patrick rolls his eyes and stands at his side, fingers gripping onto Jonny’s shoulder.

“Oh, Patrick,” Jonny’s client says, finally taking notice of him. Patrick recognizes his doughy face; Jonny’s feelings of dislike making more sense when Patrick recalls how disdainful he was at Jonny’s last work function. 

“I didn’t know you’d be joining us,” the man continues, clearly disapproving, and Patrick _definitely_ looks as fucked out as he feels if the disbelieving look on his face is anything to go by.

Patrick smiles sunnily at him, before turning to face Jonny. Jonny’s looking up at him, affection written on his face, body relaxed and eyes shining from his orgasm.

Knowing Jonny’s client is watching, Patrick tilts his head down to Jonny’s and catches his mouth in a wet kiss, letting him share the salty tang of come still coating his tongue.

With one last little peck, he moves his lips to Jonny’s ear and whispers, “Thanks, Daddy.”

Patrick’s voice is _wrecked._ Jonny’s eyes darken and he licks his lips at the sound of it, looking ready to go and destroy Patrick all over again.

Patrick straightens back up and moves to the seat next to Jonny, sitting down and enjoying the unimpressed expression on the client’s face. Patrick would worry that his actions could jeopardize Jonny’s job, but Jonny’s the best lawyer in this city and this fuckface knows it. The trouble that Jonny’s saving this douchebag is more than enough incentive for him to put up with their little show.

So Patrick smiles sweetly, idly patting his fingers through the mess of his hair, eyes sparkling at Jonny as they glance at each other.

He raises a hand to call over a waiter, the dessert menu firmly in his hand.

*

They arrive home later that night, Patrick satisfied and full of expensive French pastries. As they’re undressing in their bedroom, Jonny walks up behind him, pulling Patrick back into the expanse of his chest.

“I love you, baby boy,” Jonny says, voice deep and proud. “You did so well, made me feel so good.” Jonny peppers small kisses along his shoulders and neck, caging Patrick in and making him feel warm and secure.

“Love you too, Daddy,” he sighs, voice still croaky and rough as he rests his head back against Jonny’s shoulder. Jonny makes a little hum of pleasure at the name. “Next time, though,” Patrick ponders. “I want you to take me out and fuck me so hard I _scream_.”

Jonny lets out a huff of amusement, but the way his arms tighten around Patrick gives away just how much he likes the idea.

“We can do that,” he agrees.

“Good,” Patrick says.

Jonny laughs and grips one of his hands, dragging Patrick towards his luxurious shower and perfect body.

Tomorrow, Patrick will have to go back to campus and leave the warm little bubble of Jonny’s apartment. There are things to do, and the all consuming want that flows through him when he’s around Jonny makes him utterly useless for anything productive. He has papers to write, and it’s been so long since he stayed in his own room that he’s beginning to wonder if one of his frat brothers have taken over and declared it theirs. 

So he’ll go, and force them to stay apart for a few days. He’ll endure the never-ending teasing and pointed remarks from his brothers, with only Jonny’s voice soothing him and ordering him to come on the other end of the phone for comfort.

For now, Patrick ducks his head and smiles, nuzzling into Jonny’s chest, feeling content as they step into the shower and trade lazy kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really, really love sugar daddy Jonny. 
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://puckministry.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
